The House on Whitman Avenue
by 123456789abcdefghi
Summary: Years after a terrible tragedy forces Kurt Hummel to leave everything behind, he has finally achieved happiness as a fashion designer in the big city. Things couldn't be more perfect. But when a stranger named Blaine Anderson comes into his life Kurt's world is turned upside down. And no one can run from their past forever...
1. Chapter One

**Hello! This is a story I started last year that has been reposted. I have the first few chapters finished and will add new chapters pretty steadily. If you like suspenseful romances then this is for you! Please fave/follow/review so I can see if anyone is reading this. Lots of love, theburningone.**

* * *

"Expect a chill this morning as you start out your day with lows of 42 F. Winds will pick up considerably in the next few hours, especially for you folks making your morning commute on Lake Shore Drive," came the meteorologist's voice from the living room. Kurt wondered why she sounded so cheerful at 6 AM. It was late May and the weather in Chicago was not cooperating with his spring wardrobe.

Sighing, he trudged his way from his bedroom to the bathroom, fixing his towel securely about his waist. His eyes swept quickly around the blue-tiled bathroom, searching for his morning creams. He looked up at his reflection, studying the pale skin, smoothly combed chestnut hair, and the slight shadow of hair on his jaw. He had changed quite a bit since high school, with more muscle on his formerly waif-thin frame and wider shoulders. Kurt applied some of the cold cream onto his forehead, appraising his reflection further. It was sort of amazing what several hours at the gym and a few inches in height had done to him. He had always been ridiculed in school for his feminine body and pretty face. His face still looked pretty but angular as well, and while he would always be thin (so long as he stuck to his healthy eating regimen), it wasn't at the expense of looking weak.

He ducked his head in the sink to quickly wash the cream away and walked into the living room where the early morning news anchors were still blathering away in excitement.

"Looking for something to do this weekend? You could win two tickets to see Othello -"

The anchorman's voice abruptly cut as Kurt turned off the TV. He sat down and started eating the oatmeal and fruit he made earlier and decided to go over what he had to do for the day. Incidentally, he was in charge of the fashion design for Othello, which would be playing in the Chicago Theatre in a few weeks. Kurt enjoyed his job as a marketing consultant at Bassinger & Mosely. He remembered when he started out as an intern seven years ago. It had seemed impossible then to imagine himself, Kurt Hummel, the naive boy from Lima, Ohio, living on his own and making his way into the world. The circumstances under which he had to leave home still gave him nightmares. In the span of a few months he was forced to leave everything he knew behind. He had moved from city to city in search of a new place to call home and it had felt like such a relief when Chicago seemed to be that place.

Kurt shook his head, attempting to rid the feelings that still bubbled furiously in him everytime he thought back to the summer he graduated from high school. His phone beeped and he picked it up, seeing a missed call from Luke. He had left a text message asking Kurt to call him back and would it be alright if they cooked dinner tonight at his place this time? Kurt ran his hands through his hair, unsure of how to respond and wondering again for the umpteenth time why Luke even bothered to remain interested in him. Thinking it would take him a long time to understand, he stood up quickly and gathered his dishes to place in the sink before marching back to his room and pulling on the outfit he had put together the night before. Standing in front of his full length mirror, he surveyed the black blazer and pants set he decided to pair with a dark gray dress shirt and a plain coral tie. Luke had told him a few days ago how coral highlighted the color of his lips.

Kurt glanced at his watch, noting it was already approaching 7 AM and he had yet to style his hair and rushed into the bathroom once more to do so. Running a comb deftly through his hair, he looked at his appearance once more, and, seemingly satisfied, grabbed his leather satchel and fresh coffee from the kitchen counter. He gave his small but cozy apartment one last look before donning his shoes and hurrying out the door.

* * *

It was 8:30 AM and Blaine was running late. The seemingly sunny morning had turned downcast and the wind kept trying to blow his briefcase out of his hands. He had been fifteen minutes from downtown when he decided it would be better if he just ran the rest of the way. The cars were congested and his taxi driver kept turning the news louder and louder. His taxi driver tried to tell him that the meteorologist was now warning of heavy rains but he brushed it off and gave him money before leaping out of the car. Now, twenty minutes later, his suit was nearly soaked, his hair completely ruined and bound to be frizzy later, and he was late for his first day of work.

Blaine kept looking for the gray, stone building he was supposed to go to but all the buildings looked the same. Groaning in frustration, he tried to squint through the rain at the people around him, hopeful that someone, anyone, would have the letters B&M embossed in gold somewhere on their person. There were people everywhere, rushing in and out of buildings, stumbling from taxis and buses, and it was nearly impossible to discern anything in the heavy downpour.

He let out a breath and continued to walk before noticing a man stepping off one of the buses, the gold letters glittering on his bag. Blaine grinned and watched as he entered a building across the street before following him in. The inside of the building revealed a great hall that he remembered and people were streaming left and right. He looked around for the man and saw him standing near a receptionist. Hoping he wouldn't notice, Blaine walked towards him, trying not to catch his eye. As he came closer, he could make out the man's professional yet casual clothes and his conversation with the woman. His chestnut hair was coiffed slightly in the front and gleamed in the morning sunlight.

"I know this is only temporary Jess but I want you to know I'm here for you," he was saying to the blonde woman who was looking up at him from her desk.

"I've had this job for, like, a year and I saved up enough to move out. Can you believe it? He won't know what hit him when he finds out I'm gone!" Jess said, clapping her hands excitedly.

The man had a small smile on his face and was about to respond before he suddenly looked up and Blaine was met with stone gray eyes and a beautiful face. His features were at once delicate and arresting and he had generous pink lips which sat below a cute, upturned nose. For a few seconds, they held each other's eyes and the strangest feeling spread throughout his body. He tried to smile politely before quickly averting his gaze. He couldn't help thinking that something about this man seemed so familiar. The man whispered quietly to Jess, who looked up at Blaine, her smile fading. Blaine turned around and pretended to stare outside the window. He heard the man start to leave and walked behind him to the elevators. For some reason, he couldn't remember the floor the office was located on and another glance at his watch told him he was very late indeed.

Two elevator doors opened, both of them going up, and the man with the gray eyes went inside one while a woman went inside the other.

"Shall I hold the door for you sir?" she asked, looking at him kindly. Blaine was about to reply before he saw the door for the first elevator about to close and launched himself full body into it before it emitted a loud beep and opened up again. Blaine smiled apologetically at the man before walking in, who was giving him an incredulous look. Embarrassed, he looked away and tried to busy himself by patting down his suit. There was no use; he knew he looked ridiculous.

"Which floor?" the man asked, his voice catching Blaine by surprise. It was high and slightly delicate yet soft. He had already pressed number 39 and Blaine suddenly remembered that being the floor where Jacob Bassinger was now sitting in his office, waiting for him.

Blaine cleared his throat.

"Uh, I think we're going to the same floor."

The man looked at him and again, Blaine was struck with the same strange feeling he had yet to characterize. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

The elevator came to a sudden stop and the man stepped out quickly before disappearing inside a corridor. Blaine looked around and saw the B&M insignia on the receptionist's desk. The woman sitting there looked up and simply pointed him towards a door on the left. Blaine peered down at his slightly disheveled clothes and wished he had had more time to put himself together. Running his fingers through his curls, he took a deep breath and walked in.

Inside the large office and sitting in a chair was Jacob Bassinger, long-time friend of his father. Blaine had decided to follow in his footsteps in criminal defense law and his father had appointed him an important task in Chicago. It had only taken a few months to set up an office and he was already busy getting new clients. Mr. Anderson Senior was representing a highly influential and wealthy family in Lima, Ohio and one of Blaine's responsibilities was to assist with their case. So Blaine's father called Jacob a few weeks ago asking for a favor and now he was here.

He walked up to Jacob's desk, intent on making a good first impression.

"Mr. Bassinger I apologize for running late, I-"

But Jacob was waving his hands. "Not to worry Blaine, I was just on the phone with your old man, says you like to rush around in the morning?"

Blaine flushed, already formulating the conversation he would be having later with his father. Jacob chuckled knowingly and beckoned him to come closer.

"Listen, I would give you a tour but we are kind of going through a rough transition. Got some deadlines today and a last minute staff meeting. Do me a favor and go find Ms. Melon, she'll show you your new office."

"Where is-"

"Just ask the receptionist. I'll catch up with you later," Jacob said, reaching for his phone.

Blaine nodded and walked back out to the receptionist, who must have already read his mind because she picked up her phone and asked for Ms. Melon to come to her desk. A short Black woman who looked to be in her forties came up behind him and motioned him to follow. Despite her height, she was walking fast and Blaine had trouble keeping up. She was also talking loudly on the phone.

"You have less than an hour to send me that email or I will-what was that? No, Kurt does not have time to look through your proofs, just send me the pictures and, wait, hold on Bernard."

They had reached the end of one of the long corridors and there was a large office with his name already emblazoned on the front door. Ms. Melon looked at him before opening the door and Blaine followed her inside. The office was bare but he could tell that Jacob was trying his best to make him feel welcome.

"Now listen, I may be your new secretary but that does not mean you expect me to hang your coat," Ms. Melon said.

Blaine looked at her, startled. "No ma'am, I don't expect you to."

"Yes sir! And I won't be bringing you no coffee, no tea, none of that till you've earned it, got it?"

Blaine shook his head yes, still staring at her and wondering just what he would be getting into at his new job. Ms. Melon narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to say something before her phone started ringing again.

"Yeah, Bernard? Oh, Kurt! How are you baby?" Blaine noticed her tone of voice change dramatically and something of a smile graced her features. Then a thought crossed his mind. Kurt. He had heard that name before. He tried to think where but kept drawing a blank.

"I know, I just told him now about not calling you. Me? I'm showing around the new person. I think this was the one the boss man was saying you would be working with. You should see how he looks! Lord knows I ain't never seen such a mess," she laughed and Blaine looked around the room desperately for a towel. He could literally feel the heavy weight of his wet clothes hanging off his body and willed them to air dry.

"Hold on Kurt," she glanced over at Blaine before saying, "You won't find an extra suit if that's what you're looking for. There's a men's bathroom that might have some paper towels though I doubt that will do you much good. You better hurry, staff meeting in twenty and the boss man's gonna want you to meet the rest of the folk."

With that she walked out of his new office and Blaine put his things on the desk and let out a long breath. It was going to be a long day. There was a single sheet of paper on the desk outlining the major points of the meeting and he spent some time looking over it. Othello's opening night, the title read, and right below that, the name Kurt Hummel was written. Paying closer attention he eyed the rest of the paper, seeing if he could find out something else about this Kurt. Blaine continued to skim and found nothing but noticed his own name in bold. He hoped the introduction wouldn't be too long. He simply hated ice breakers. He put the sheet down and looked around the office. To be sure, his father's office back home was much more impressive than this. Mr. Anderson Senior was a very successful lawyer and seeked every opportunity to make the world know. His father had a contractor from Europe build a large, cathedral-inspired building in which to house his practice. Blaine looked around again and thought that he very much preferred Jacob's stately yet modest design. He ran his fingers along the cool wooden desk and they came into contact with the portfolio he had almost forgotten to look at. It was given to him by his father and contained a bit of the information he needed to help with the case. Blaine opened it and was about to read when the phone on his desk started to ring.

He picked it up and mustered a small "Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking," before being greeted by a voice he recognized as the receptionist's.

"Mr. Anderson, the staff meeting is about to start in room 011."

Blaine thanked her and placed the phone back on the reciever. He sat up and started walking out before rushing back and grabbing the portfolio. There would be some time during the meeting to at least get caught up with the case before it went to trial. Clasping it tightly, he proceeded towards the room. He turned the corner and nearly collided with someone.

"I am so sorry-" Blaine immediately stopped when he realized it was the familiar man he had followed up the elevator.

"It's no problem, I-" The man had finally turned around and when he saw Blaine he took a step back. His eyes, which were now becoming more of a stormy blue, widened and he said stiffened before saying, "Are you following me?"

Blaine looked at him for a second before laughing.

"Following you? No, I, well, this morning I forgot which floor I was supposed to come to for my first day at work," he said easily and flashed what he hoped was a comforting smile. It had the desired effect because the man had stopped glaring at him and was instead reading a sheet of paper he picked up off the floor.

"Good. So you don't know who I am and you aren't looking for me?" he asked inquiringly, fixing Blaine with his piercing eyes.

"No! No, I have no idea who you are. We should...introduce ourselves. My name is Blaine Anderson," he said and stuck his hand out, smiling. The man returned his smile but Blaine noticed it didn't reach his eyes.

"Kurt Hummel," the man said slowly, shaking his hand and watching his face carefully. Blaine froze, unconsciously gripping his hand tightly. Kurt Hummel? Who was this man and why did it feel like they had met before? His hand was warm and Blaine felt an odd shiver run through him.

Kurt wrenched his hand from his grip. "So you'll know why I don't believe you then," he finally said.

Blaine frowned, not understanding this statement. "Believe you...?"

"When you say you don't know me."

"What do you mean?" Blaine replied but stopped when Kurt held up the paper he had been holding. It was a picture of him and listed his personal information. Anderson & Associates was written across the top. Blaine quickly glanced at his portfolio, realizing with a growing sense of dread that it must have opened during their run-in.

"Listen, I don't know how to explain-" he tried to say but Kurt wasn't having it.

"You followed me into the elevator and into my place of work and now I find you have my entire life story and social security number and who knows what else. So forgive me if I don't give you the benefit of doubt when you say you don't know me," Kurt spat, suddenly looking furious.

"I swear I-"

"Stop talking. I know how to deal with you. Security!" Kurt shouted at the top of his lungs and Blaine felt his heart sink. This day was just not getting better was it?

"Kurt, what's going on?" Jacob had rounded the corner and was staring at them both.

"Mr. Bassinger, I'm sorry I'm running late but this bastard has been stalking me all morning," Kurt said, his voice shaking. Bright red spots had formed on his cheeks and he was holding up the paper as proof. Jacob looked at it quickly before giving Blaine an indecipherable look. Blaine stared back at him, willing him to read his mind. But his father must have known what he was doing because a small smile appeared on Jacob's face a few seconds later.

"Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson. He is going to be consulting with you on a new project and I asked him to do a bit of research on you before coming in."

"A bit of research?" Kurt repeated, in disbelief. His eyes darted back and forth between Blaine and Jacob, as if trying to determine who was the bigger fool.

"Yes, I know how this looks Kurt but he was just being very thorough. Anyway, let's go to the meeting, we're all running behind schedule and you know how they get when that happens." Jacob clapped Kurt on the shoulder, smiled at Blaine, and sauntered off ahead of them. Kurt shot him a look of pure dislike before raising his head imperiously and following Jacob's lead. Blaine shook his head and thanked whatever diety was in charge of making sure his life wouldn't completely suck.

As he made his way after Kurt he heard a great din coming from the conference room and sure enough, there were dozens of people sitting down and talking all at once. Kurt had seated himself near Ms. Melon and appeared to be relating what had just happened. Blaine sat down next to a man with oily black hair who turned around in his chair as soon as he saw him.

"Bernard Jackson," he said and smiled without showing his teeth. Blaine smiled back and replied, "Blaine Anderson."

Bernard nodded and seemed to observe him for a moment. He looked pointedly at his attire. "So did you decide to take a dip in the lake?"

"Oh, no, just got stuck in the rain." His clothes weren't wet anymore but Blaine knew his hair would take ages to dry. And when it did it would pouf up like a giant balloon.

"You must not be used to the weather here. It can rain a lot and it's pretty heavy when it does."

"I'm sure it does," Blaine offered, wondering why he was telling him this detail.

Bernard chuckled. "The workload is pretty heavy here as well. Then again, you probably aren't used to that being an Anderson," he drawled. Blaine stared at him and anger rippled through him. What was this guy trying to say? Across the table he saw Kurt watching with a smirk on his face, following the conversation. Another rush of anger hit him and before he could say anything Jacob started to speak.

"Alright, let's get started," he said and the noise died down as he looked at everyone from his seat at the top of the table.

"First, can I introduce one of our new managing consultants, Blaine Anderson. He will be working closely with and advising the marketing team headed by Kurt." Blaine looked around the table and smiled charmingly at everyone. Growing up, he knew that one of his greatest assets was his charisma and it didn't hurt that he had taken after his father with his good looks. Blaine used this to his advantage and his gaze lingered on some of the women. A few of them glanced at him appreciatively. His eyes passed over Kurt who was looking down resolutely.

"I'm sure Kurt and I will work well together," he said slowly and watched as Kurt looked up at him. This time Blaine refused to drop his gaze and Kurt eventually turned away, a faint flush coloring his pale skin. Blaine smiled to himself, feeling like he had won some sort of unspoken challenge.

"Good! Now, let's get to talking about some of the finances then," Jacob exclaimed and launched into a detailed lecture on the finer points of theater consumerism. While he spoke, Blaine looked through the papers in his portfolio discreetly. He was now more curious than ever as to why Kurt's biography was included in the papers his father had given him. Turning the pages as quietly as he could, he passed over them until one of them caught his eye. It was a description of his job at his father's office and it listed his main responsibility in the case: in charge of undermining Kurt Hummel, key witness for the prosecution. Kurt Hummel. Blaine raised his head a little and looked at Kurt, who was paying close attention to whatever Jacob was saying. So that's who he was! Blaine knew only a little about the case but even he was aware that the prosecution had scored a major victory when they found out that one Kurt Hummel was still alive. If Kurt didn't know who Blaine was, that meant that the prosecution hadn't reached him yet or Kurt was doing a very good job hiding that they had. Blaine hoped it was the former reason. It had been a rat race from the very beginning to find him and Blaine knew his father would be delighted to discover that they had gotten their first.

Blaine closed the portfolio carefully and allowed his eyes to glance over Kurt again. Perhaps this day wasn't going to be so terrible after all.


	2. Chapter Two

Kurt tried to focus as Mr. Bassinger droned endlessly about premium markups on tickets to the upcoming play but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He was staring at Mr. Bassinger's horrible haircut but if anyone were to take a peek at his eyes they would notice they were glazed over. Instead, his mind was whirring with thoughts about the creep that had been following him all morning, Blaine Anderson. It didn't help that he was handsome, and, Kurt admitted with a scowl, could work a polka-dot bowtie. Not that he paid his appearance that much attention, mind you. But Kurt wasn't buying his spiel about wanting to find out 'more about him.' Unless he used to work at an FBI agency. Kurt peered surreptitiously at him under his eyelashes. Blaine was alternately flicking through a portfolio and glancing up at Mr. Bassinger. Kurt leaned in slightly to see what else was inside the mysterious file but he couldn't get any closer without being obvious. He sat back and hesitated momentarily when he caught Blaine's eye, who regarded him briefly before winking and turning to Mr. Bassinger. Kurt didn't know how to react and eventually settled for a disgusted look. What the hell was wrong with this guy?

Before he knew it, people were scraping their chairs back and the meeting was finally over. Kurt gave Glenda a handwave goodbye and took off to his desk. He had barely taken anytime that morning to start on the list of things to accomplish. Thankfully, his desk was in a more secluded corner and he could work without people shouting on their phones and talking loudly. Kurt got to work quickly and by noon had gone through half of the things on his list. Checking off the reminder to call the design company in Michigan and feeling satisfied with himself, he stood up and grabbed his phone. There was this new Thai place a few blocks down he wanted to try and today seemed like a good day to go. Kurt turned around and was met abruptly with a smiling Blaine. He tried to think how he could have crept up so quietly but the answer just wasn't coming to him.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, hoping his rude tone would put him off and send him scurrying away.

Blaine took a small step forward and his smile grew a little wider. "I think we should meet to discuss the project."

Kurt glared at him, trying to ignore how beautiful his honey-colored eyes were. Or the allure of his wild black curls. They made him look childish, he told himself.

"I was hoping you would be free tomorrow morning?" Blaine continued, resting a hand on his hip.

Turning slowly, Kurt pretended to consult his calendar for availabilities. Privately, he wanted to prolong having any sort of meeting with Blaine, at least until he figured out what was going on. He looked back at Blaine and shrugged. "Looks like I won't be free until next Thursday."

"Oh, it's alright. I think Jacob was telling me you had some fittings to oversee but he wants us to meet as soon as possible," Blaine said easily, coming a little closer to him. Kurt wrinkled his nose as his weird woody cologne and something else, something musky, swept over him. Truthfully, he smelled good but it was just too...much? Yes, that was it.

Kurt sighed. He wouldn't be able to get out of this. "Fine. Tomorrow morning," he said bracingly, thinking he might as well get it over with.

"One more thing I wanted to ask you."

"It wouldn't be my birth certificate would it?" Kurt asked sardonically. He looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you probably already have that."

Blaine started to laugh. He had a nice laugh and it was making him feel oddly warm inside. But he was finding this a little too funny and Kurt worried that other people would think they were friends or something. That would be bad. Kurt glanced at him and noticed Blaine was no longer laughing and was regarding him quietly. Feeling extremely uncomfortable under his searching gaze, Kurt made to simply walk away but was stopped by Bernard's sudden appearance. He was sporting a bright red beret that clashed horribly with his pink tie. It looked utterly foul, like everything else about him.

"Kurt, I just sent you that file you've been haggling me about. I hope it suits your fancy," Bernard drawled and bowed mockingly. Kurt hated Bernard and he knew the feeling was mutual. In fact, he was the only negative part of his job and thus far, Kurt had avoided interacting with him. That was, until this new project began. Looking back at Blaine, who was smiling politely at them, he thought his life was about to get a lot worse.

"Thank you, Bernard, glad you got Glenda's message."

"It was hard not to, she was calling me every five minutes. Do you pay her extra to do things for you?"

"Having friends has that advantage, not that you would have any idea..."

Blaine chuckled and Bernard swiveled his oily head in his direction. "Ah, Mr. Anderson!" he said loudly, as though seeing him standing there for the first time. "I see you find Kurt's unattractively abrasive personality amusing?"

Blaine shrugged and made a noncommittal noise, still wearing that stupid smile. Bernard looked back and forth between them, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Spend enough time here and you will see that Kurt has plenty of friends, lots of people looking out for him," Bernard murmured, giving Blaine a meaningful look. Kurt thought Bernard was blabbering nonsense again but he saw Blaine quirk his head at this odd statement.

"Well, I need to make some calls. See you tomorrow Kurt." As Blaine walked away Bernard leaned in to Kurt. "Do you two know each other outside of work?" he asked inquiringly.

"No, definitely not, I...I've never seen him until today," Kurt replied. He was about to tell him that Blaine had been stalking him but decided against it. Bernard would probably find out some other way. In fact, Kurt wouldn't be surprised if Bernard already knew and was just trying to obtain additional details. "Now, if you can excuse me," he said, and left him there without waiting for a reply.

* * *

Blaine patted his hair down in vain as he sat in his office chair. It was almost 5 and his hair was a complete disaster. He wanted to call his father before leaving to convey the good news. Thus far, he was very behind on the case. The portfolio mostly contained the procedures for vetting jury members and offered sparing details on Kurt and his family. Blaine grabbed a pen and leafed through the papers until he came to the sheet that Kurt had picked up off the floor. He looked up briefly to see if anyone was walking by and saw no one outside the glass exterior of his office. The paper listed his basic information. Kurt was born May 27, 1986, making him the same age as Blaine, 27 years old. The picture appeared to be of a teenaged Kurt. He had the same hair and ever-changing blue-green eyes but his face had a little more baby fat. This Kurt had more expressive eyes and Blaine thought they looked incredibly sad. His eyes trailed over the scant information they had on Kurt's life. His last known address was 415 Whitman Avenue in Lima, Ohio. Blaine wondered how Kurt had disappeared from the map for so long. A google search he had done earlier came up with nothing whatsoever on him. No facebook profile, instagram account, even mentions on theater blogs. He had his work cut out for him.

Thinking he should call now, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed his father's cell phone. While it rang, Blaine thought back to his interaction with Kurt earlier. He could tell he was still suspicious and was understandably apprehensive. Blaine thought there might be something else though, if the way Kurt's eyes lingered on his body gave any indication.

"Logan Anderson speaking," came his father's silky voice and Blaine's thoughts caught up with the present time.

"Father, it's Blaine," he said formally, knowing his father loved all things prim and proper. "I started working at Jacob's firm today."

"Yes. We spoke earlier. Why were you late Blaine? I thought I told you there would be a driver waiting outside your condo."

Blaine rolled his eyes. His family might enjoy the pleasures their luxurious lifestyle afforded them but Blaine didn't. He had wanted a more touristy introduction to downtown Chicago but he wasn't about to say this now. "I...forgot. Anyway, you won't believe who I ran into."

"Let me guess, Kurt Hummel?" His father laughed and Blaine was taken aback.

"Blaine, son, I didn't send you there to find him. Sleuth work is not your strong suit. You probably didn't know who he was until you saw the papers even though I described him in detail before you left. Am I right?"

Blaine gave an annoyed huff of breath, knowing he was right and not wanting to admit it. Was he really that oblivious? It didn't help that this was a familiar feeling, being left clueless until his father felt like telling him what was going on.

"It's alright son. We all have different strengths. You were never an observant kid. Hell, your mother and I knew you were gay before you had any idea!" His father chuckled again and Blaine scowled into the phone. That was definitely not true. It had just taken him a little extra...time to figure it out.

"How did you want me to go about this?" Blaine asked, pulling the portfolio closer to take notes.

"First, we need more information on him. What is his personality like, his family life, hobbies, passions, both platonic and romantic relationships? What does he do on weekends? Any enemies? Who has he been in contact with in Lima?"

Blaine scribbled this down. "Ok, what else?"

"We need to get him to trust you. And here lies your strength Blaine. You are a very likable person and you are going to have to use that charm to get him to want to tell you these things."

Blaine breathed slowly, knowing this was going to be hard. Kurt already didn't trust him. "I will do my best. I'm not sure but I think he might be attracted to me." He didn't continue to say that he also found him attractive and was indescribably drawn to him.

His father made a little noise of disapproval. "That's fine, use whatever methods you want, there is no need to describe the finer points to me." Blaine knew he was still uncomfortable about his sexuality. It was one of the many things that kept their relationship cordial yet fraught with underlying tensions.

"When do you need this done by?"

"The trial is starting in the second week of June so you have 2 weeks. And I will be calling you from time to time to get updates and tell you what's going on with the case as the date comes closer."

"In the files you gave me you said you wanted me to undermine him. How should I do that?"

Logan Anderson hesitated for a moment before responding. "Let's just try and get as much as we can from him and then we can talk about that later. Once we clear our defendant and his family, I have a strong inkling that the entirety of the prosecution's case will rest on Kurt's innocence. We need to chip away at that foundation bit by bit."

"I will get started then. Thanks father," Blaine said and they promised to call each other soon. He gathered his things and stood up to lock his office. He glanced at his watch and saw it was half past 6 already. He walked to the elevator and noticed the lack of noise, realizing that most people had already left. The ding of the elevator came and he stepped inside. The doors were about to close before a pale hand stopped them and Kurt walked in and pressed P. He raised his blue eyes to look at him.

"I would ask where you're going but I imagine you're going to continue following me."

Blaine leaned back against the cool elevator walls, smiling at him. He wasn't sure how serious Kurt was but he took the bait. "Not quite, seeing as this is how everyone else gets out of this building. Unless you're proposing I should have climbed out of a window and jumped off?"

Kurt stood back and Blaine took a moment to appreciate his lean form and how his dark clothes contrasted strikingly with his creamy white skin. "Well, let's see here," he began, "The main floor is actually G. Those of us who parked our cars would be going to P. And seeing as you are brand new and don't have a parking pass yet...I would conclude that you're following me."

"You didn't bring your car today," Blaine said simply and watched as Kurt frowned at him.

"How did you know that?"

Blaine slapped himself mentally. He had just made things worse, if that were even possible. If he didn't already before, Kurt was going to think he was some psycho stalker out to get him.

"Um, lucky guess?" he replied with a small shrug.

"No, you are telling me the truth right now," Kurt said, his voice quiet with simmering anger. He pressed the emergency stop button, crossed his arms, and looked at him. "We aren't going anywhere until you tell me."

"I used to work for a security company," he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "When I...got this job and found out I would be working with you I used software I already had to look you up. It was inappropriate and I apologize. I was just curious."

Kurt took this in and his expression changed from outrage to confusion. "So...that's why you were following me?"

"Well, I just have a bad memory and forgot which building the firm was in," Blaine said, finding that the truth slipped out of his mouth much more easily. "I saw the letters B and M on your bag and I was running late so I decided to follow you."

Kurt closed his eyes and Blaine shifted on the balls of his feet uneasily. He knew it was somewhat of a weak excuse but he couldn't think of anything else. Well...

Kurt finally opened his eyes and pushed the emergency button again and the elevator resumed its course downward. Blaine smiled inwardly.

"I'm not sure if I believe everything you said but I will leave it alone for now."

Blaine nodded and watched as the elevator went from 8 to 7, 6..5..4..

"I also find you attractive," he said suddenly, deciding to push his luck just a tiny bit more. He could feel Kurt stiffen beside him and turned to look him in the eye. "If you were wondering why I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

Kurt blinked rapidly and blushed. Blaine followed the trail of pink down his neck where it disappeared under his collar before staring back at him. Smiling, he pressed G quickly and the elevator dinged before stopping. He winked before stepping out and left him standing there speechless. 

* * *

Everything was almost ready for their dinner. Kurt had prepared vegetarian lasagne and a red leaf salad and the potatoes were nearly boiled to perfection. He liked to avoid starchy foods but Luke loved lasagne and he tried to indulge him every once in a while. Even if that meant his gym time would increase by an hour tomorrow. It was worth seeing the look of joy on his face. Besides, it was the only thing Kurt could give him.

He dried his hands on a wash cloth and walked into the dining room. The table was set for two and several vanilla-scented candles were ready to be lit. All that was left was the food. Kurt turned around and searched the fridge for water and brought out a coke for Luke. He had long ago given up alcohol and was glad he did, having never grown accustomed to the loss of inhibition drinking entailed. He took out the lasagne and set the food on the table and went to check his phone for any missed calls. Thinking about work, he flushed at the memory of what Blaine had said to him on the elevator. He knew he should probably be upset at his forwardness but he couldn't quell the thrill that shot up in his stomach each time his remembered his admission. Kurt sifted through a few messages from work and froze when he saw a missed call with the area code '419.' Someone had called him from that number earlier at 9 AM but didn't leave a message. He debated calling back, a dozen feelings at war inside his body. Fear. Anxiety. Betrayal. Guilt. The word GUILT kept flashing in his mind and he didn't hear the front door open or notice someone waving their hands in front of his face.

"Kurt? Are you in there?" someone said and Kurt jerked his head up violently. His mind passively acknowledged Luke's presence.

"Kurt? What's wrong, you're shaking." Kurt felt but didn't see him sit down and wrap an arm around him. Kurt hesitated before resting the back of his head on the couch.

"I'm...fine. I just had a headache."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to get some aspirin?" Luke's brown eyes were full of concern and he was reminded of why this relationship was good for him. Luke, with his dark hair and loving arms. Luke, with his constant love and steadfast loyalty. He would always be there for him and that was something he couldn't say for anyone else in his life. Even if Kurt couldn't bring himself to say 'I love you' without lying.

"No, thanks. Let's eat, the food is ready."

They made their way over to the table and Luke thanked him quietly while Kurt lit the candles and turned the lights off. Conversation was easy after that and Kurt smiled as Luke told him about his crazy new bartender. Luke was the owner of a hip bar in Lincoln Park and usually had interesting stories to tell about the clientele.

"How was work for you?" he asked after regaling him with his latest experience.

"It was fine. The usual really. I have to work with Bernard, which I'm not to happy about," Kurt replied, stabbing a piece of cucumber with his fork.

"What is it with that guy anyway? I always feel like he's staring through me whenever I visit you at work."

Kurt laughed humorlessly. "Who knows? I suspect an ill-disguised, manic curiosity for snooping into other people's lives. Likely because his is severely lacking in pretty much everything."

Luke frowned. "Well, he creeps me out."

"You and me both. There's been so much creeping lately I keep thinking it's October."

Luke smiled and folded a napkin onto his now empty plate. "I was meaning to ask when you could take a few days off. Mom wants us to come down for Memorial's day barbeque and finally see you."

Kurt grimaced inwardly. It wasn't like he didn't want to meet Luke's family. The idea of seeing his family happy together would just bring back memories from his past. Memories he had succeeded thus far in burying in the deepest part of his brain. But now that it was nearly 4 years of dating one another, Kurt could no longer avoid this question. Or Luke's determined mother.

"Sure, I'll ask my boss tomorrow. I think it should be fine though."

He helped him gather the dishes but Luke insisted on clearing the rest of their dinner up. Sighing, Kurt yawned and walked into the living room to catch the last bit of the news. The anchors were talking about the supposedly sharp drop in temperature today and Kurt rolled his eyes. This was the midwest for fuck's sake. He flipped the channel and landed on a 48 hours mystery homicide. Kurt promptly shut the TV off, his heart hammering.

"Babe?" Luke had apparently finished and was staring at him quizzically. He must have said his name more than once. Kurt stood up.

"Do you want to stay the night?"

"I, um, sure if...if you want me to."

Kurt shuffled into the bedroom and got changed while Luke used the bathroom. He used to be afraid of Luke coming over, of sleeping with him, but after realizing that he wouldn't make him do anything he wasn't comfortable with, that feeling went away. Kurt slipped under the covers and waited for him. When Luke came out he turned the lights off and slid next to him, muttering a 'good night.' Kurt turned and looked at the smooth muscles on his back. Luke never pushed him but Kurt always felt like he deserved more. When Kurt told him he didn't want to have penetrative sex Luke never questioned him further, reassuring him that many gay relationships didn't involve that anyway. Truthfully, Kurt had known he was gay as a child. He used to worship the bodies of men he saw at the movies or in magazines. But he didn't think he had ever been sexually attracted to anyone. Even when previous boyfriends had tried to touch him, to elicit some sort of reaction, it always paled in comparison to their reaction when Kurt would wrap his fingers around them or press his lips to their bodies. So with Luke, Kurt tried to please him as best as he could. And each time a frantic pumping of his hand produced an orgasm, he felt like he was doing something right. He gently traced the lines of his back now and Luke groaned softly.

"Sure you want to start this baby? We don't have to."

Kurt kissed him gently between his shoulder blades as an answer. He pushed him gently to lie on his back and ran his lips all over his naked torso and pulled his briefs off before taking him into his mouth. As Luke moaned above him Kurt tried but didn't feel anything. He didn't need to touch himself to see he was still soft. Willing the tears back, he dipped his head again and continued his ministrations, knowing Luke was close. He began to shout "Kurt!" teetering off the edge of his high and Kurt wondered if he would ever be able to chase his. 

* * *

Hundreds of miles away in Lima, Ohio, municipal court Judge Helen Brighton ran a tired hand across her face and looked blearingly at the clock. It was nearly 10 PM and her husband was going to be upset she missed dinner for the second time this week. Maybe she would appease him by going on that Mediterranean cruise he had always dreamt they would take. Helen glanced at the neat piles of folders on her desk before looking back at the open one near her phone. It was a new case and the trial was set for a few weeks from now. She would have left her office earlier but this case had caught her eye. It was a homicidal cold case that had yielded little in scientific evidence. The police had long ago given up and the files had sat in their station for several years. Last December though the state prosecutor had recieved a tip from an anonymous source regarding the murders and a full inquiry had been launched. Several months later it had resulted in a criminal investigation to be tried in Lima Municipal Court. She had been assigned the case today after a fellow colleague recused himself. Helen thought she should ask the clerk about that tomorrow. But for now, she wanted to make one last call to the attorney general's office.

Helen dialed the number and waited until a male voiced picked up. "Hello?"

She glanced at the name written on the files. Karl Van Gauss. He was elected a few months ago and his name sounded unfamiliar on her tongue. "Yes, this is Judge Brighton."

"How are you? I was expecting a call, your Honor," Karl replied.

"I'm doing well thanks for asking. I was assigned the homicide case your office is investigating today and had a few questions."

"I would be happy to answer them."

"I just wanted to confirm that the prosecution intends on pursuing a felony murder...?"

"Yes, felony murders," he corrected. "We are taking this as far as it will go."

"Despite the fact that the evidence is circumstantial at best? And the defendant was still a minor at the time?"

"Actually, your Honor, you will find that he turned 18 that summer. And we believe there is more to be revealed about this case as we intend to show with an updated police discovery report."

"I see. Well I look forward to reading the report and wish you a good night," she said and hung up. Helen was putting her things away when her phone began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Helen Diane Brighton?" an unfamiliar man said.

"May I ask who is calling?"

"I'm just a messenger. But you should remove yourself as the judge from the new case."

Helen stopped moving for a second, knowing almost for certain this person was talking about the cold case. How did anyone know she had been appointed presiding judge? The trial itself had yet to hit the news airwaves.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do," came the whispered reply. "Recuse yourself or else." And just like that the line went dead. 


End file.
